Twitterpated
by ChaosandMayhem
Summary: They weren't the type of men one would expect to fall head-over-heels in love. Engineer/Irene, Medic/Joelle, Spy/Scout's Ma.
1. Irene

Oops I accidentally another fic while none of you were watching.

So the other day I was watching Bambi with my niece because I am a super cool kid, and while watching the "twitterpated' scene I was struck with inspiration. And here's some fluff-fluff love stuff-three chapters, one for Engie, one for Medic, and one for Spy. :3

Enjoy!

**I shot disclaimer's mom.**

* * *

_**Twitterpated**_

At the tender age of eight, Dell Conagher was something of a chub.

He was more horizontal than vertical, more round than wide, with stubby fingers and flyaway brown hair. He wore a cowboy hat and spurs. Despite the attire he wasn't much of a cowboy at all—in fact, Dell was very quiet and humble and thoughtful for an eight-year-old. He liked to be alone with his philosophical musings.

Despite all that, Dell Conagher was not without friends. The other schoolchildren liked Dell for how pleasant he was to everyone. Dell could make a friend no matter what.

However, there was one thing that Dell couldn't do.

He couldn't find a best friend.

Oh, he had a plethora of good friends, fine friends, fair-weather friends. But no friends who appreciated putting things together like he did, no friends who could sit still and read like he wanted to, no friends who wanted to sit and discuss deep, eight-year-old thoughts with him.

Yes, chubby little Dell Conagher had a lot good friends. But not a best one.

He was sitting outside in a wide field beside a modestly-sized anthill. The small boy twisted a magnifying glass around and around his hands guiltily.

It was one of those beautiful sunny days, the kind where mothers would boost boys out of the house and demand that they "get their noses out of Descartes and get into trouble like most boys".

He'd actually been reading a biography about da Vinci, but he hadn't bothered to correct her. That was one of Dell's flaws—he liked to be right, and he liked it when other people knew he was right.

Now, however, Dell wasn't feeling all that right about anything.

He was staring down at the charred little body of that poor ant he had accidently burned to a crisp. He hadn't meant to do it—he'd just been watching the industrious ants bustle about their home, and had just leaned in for a better look—

Poof. No more ant.

"Hey! Whatcha doin'?"

The high-pitched voice startled Dell out of his misery and he twisted around, puzzled.

Irene Hayes stood just a few feet away with her hands on her hips, green eyes roving over him in a curious manner.

Dell knew Irene only by sight, odd given the fact that their farms weren't too far from each other. She was a full two years older than him, though. Her appearance startled him somewhat: she had a full head of bright-red hair, a gap-toothed smile, and tended to wear tattered overalls over too-big shirts. Unlike Dell, Irene didn't appear to have many friends, and he was confused now as to why she would be addressing him.

"I said," Irene pressed her tongue to her cheek, "whatcha doin'?"

"Watchin' ants," Dell muttered at last.

"Are they doin' anything interestin'?"

"Well, a little while ago they dragged a dead fly into their hole."

"All at once?!"

"Naw, piece by piece."

"Cool!"

"Yeah, pretty cool."

Irene clasped her hands behind her back and Dell twisted the magnifying glass through his hands again. "So…" she cleared her throat, "whatcha doin' out here all by yourself?"

Dell shrugged. "Ma kicked me outta the house, said I have to stop readin' and enjoy the outdoors."

Irene's eyes lit up. "What sorts of books d'you like?"

Dell curled his legs to his chest. "Why d'you wanna know?"

"I dunno, jus' makin' po-lite conversation."

For an instant Dell was tempted to tell her to leave, and the words "go away" had just about formed on his tongue when Irene came over and plopped down beside him. "I wanna get to know you, 'cause you're that Conagher kid who's gonna be the next Einstein or somethin', so when you're rich n' famous I can tell my kids that I knew that Dell Conagher."

Dell shifted a bit. "I dunno 'bout that."

"Sure you are." Irene nodded as though this was fact. "So, what books d'you read? I like adventure books!"

"You mean like Robinson Crusoe?"

"Uh-huh." Irene dug her bare feet into the warm dirt.

A corner of Dell's mouth twitched upwards. "I like Robinson Crusoe. And Treasure Island too. I read 'em both in a day."

Irene frowned a bit. "It ain't a contest."

"Well…how many books have you read in a day?"

"Uh, I read the Bible—"

"The Bible don't count, ever'body has to read the Bible."

"Jews don't! And atheists neither!"

"You know what I meant."

Irene huffed. "Three, I guess."

Dell settled back with a smug air. "I've read _five_."

"Yeah…well…I bet I can beat you to that tree!" Irene pointed off to a tall tree in the distance. Dell shot her a dubious look and Irene pulled him to his feet. "C'mon, grouchy! Ready, set, go!"

She took off like a shot, and poor chubby Dell was left to catch up to her. When he reached the tree he was gasping for air and red-faced. Irene chuckled. "Slowpoke."

Dell wiped a line of sweat from his brow. "I bet I can spit farther than you!"

"Okay." Irene leaned against the tree and arched her eyebrows. "Spit."

And from that moment on Dell and Irene's relationship became a contest.

Who scored higher on tests; who could win the most games of tic-tac-toe; who could draw the nicest frog; who had the better Halloween costume; who could drink the most cups of eggnog before getting sick; and when they were old enough, who could shoot the most clay pigeons. They enjoyed the challenge, the company, and the banter.

When they were teenagers, though, Irene found herself in another sort of contests.

Shy chubby Dell had grown up. And while he was still the amicable good ol' boy she knew, Irene couldn't help but to notice that Dell had gotten, well, rather handsome. And she wasn't the only gal who noticed this change.

Irene wasn't quite like the other girls. Growing up as an only child on a Texan farm hadn't left her slim and willowy. She was muscular and somewhat stocky, and had never learned how to control that frizzy red hair of hers. She felt a rush of panic whenever another girl sidled up next to Dell, but, bless his oblivious little heart, he had yet to notice the affections of these girls.

"Are you going to Econ one-oh-one, Dell?"

"Erm, yes, Sally—"

"Can I borrow your notes?"

"You should borrow Irene's, her handwriting is much neater than mine."

"Hey Dell! Wanna go get some ice cream and a soda pop after class?"

"That's a mighty fine idea, Beth, but I already promised Irene that we'd study in the library together—"

"Dell, d'you have a date to the Spring Dance?"

"Um, yeah, Mary…"

"Oh! Who?!"

"Not _you_, Mary."

Nevertheless Irene wasn't confident in her position in the contest until Dell showed up outside her bedroom window with a bouquet of roses, his guitar, and a tomato-red face.

Ten years later, she got him back at the wedding altar, grabbing him by the lapels of that too-tight tuxedo and smashing his lips into hers just as the words "man and wife" left the priest's lips.

Dell and Irene Conagher's relationship was built around besting each other, and yet, at the end of the day, neither of them lost.

**….**

"Mmmpft mpfro fro!"

Engineer made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat as he hovered near his dispenser. "Whatever you say, Pyro."

"MMMPFT MPFRO FRO!"

"Ten kills in an hour? Aw, Py, that ain't nothin' special." Engineer spun on his heel to grin at the glowering—or at least, he thought the firebug was glowering—Pyro, who tapped its foot and waited for the Texan to acknowledge its achievement.

"Pfrot hudda?"

"My personal record?" In the distance there was the unmistakable sound of a sentry firing, followed by the other unmistakable sound of the enemy Scout screaming in pain. Engineer smirked. "Well, looks like it just went up to thirteen."

Pyro threw its hands into the air and stalked away, ranting under its breath. Engineer chuckled as he leaned up against the dispenser, and made a mental note not to introduce Irene to Pyro…

Or risk them ganging up on him.

* * *

My opinion on this ranged from "eh" to "meh", but gsppcrock10 seemed like it (thanks for the beta!)

Okay so far or should I stick to awkward bromance?

Thanks for reading!

~Chaos :D


	2. Joelle

A wild update appeared!

* * *

"Go away. I have nothing for you today."

The pigeon hopped a bit closer and Josef inched towards the end of the bench. "Go." The young man snarled, clutching his meager lunch to his chest. The pigeon cooed pathetically and Josef grimaced. "Very well." He tore a tiny piece of bread off his small loaf and tossed it to the ground. "Go on, shoo."

The pigeon cooed in what might have been thanks before fluttering off the bench and onto the ground. Josef rolled his eyes and pulled off a chunk of bread for himself, popping it into his mouth before reaching into his book-bag. He pulled out a thick, leather-bound volume with small print and no pictures, and settled back to enjoy his afternoon.

The wind whipped past, sudden and furious, and Josef snarled as the pages fluttered, making him lose his place. He shrugged his coat higher across his shoulders, cursing the wind.

A blast of cold air hit him again, and this time it literally smacked him in the face.

No, wait. That was just a piece of paper.

He peeled the loose piece of paper off of his face and sighed, gripping his grip as the wind threatened to tear it out of his hands. He studied the drawing on the page, and after a moment of consideration realized that the stern young man sitting on the bench rendered in pencil was him.

Slowly, Josef looked up and cast a glance around. Who on earth—?

"Help! Help, oh, somebody, help!"

A woman sprinted by, clutching onto her hat with one hand and holding a bunch of loose papers in the other. She was darting after yet another loose piece of paper as the wind carried it away playfully, keeping it just out of her reach.

The wind blasted her forward and she tripped and fell on the rough payment, losing her grip on the rest of her papers. She cursed vehemently, climbing to her knees and collecting the papers lying around her.

Josef gave another glance around, brow furrowed, and slowly stood, making his way towards the young woman. He stooped to pick up another stray drawing. "Excuse me," he cleared his throat, "I believe this belongs to you." He held out the drawing.

The young woman turned to him with a flushed face. "Oh…thank you." Breathlessly, she climbed to her feet and took the drawing, stuffing it in with those she'd managed to recollect.

Josef gave her a curt nod. "It was no problem." He stooped down and picked up another paper threatening to flutter away. He handed it off to her with pursed lips. "Are you…all right?"

"I'll be fine," she dusted off her petticoat in an attempt to regain her dignity, "thank you for your help." She smiled up at him and he felt blood warming his face.

"It was no trouble."

For a moment they stood, she shuffling her drawings, he fiddling with the buttons on his frayed coat. Finally he cleared his throat again. "Those drawings were…quite lovely."

"Oh," she flushed, "these are just little sketches, nothing important…"

"They're certainly much more impressive than anything I could ever draw."

She perked up instantly. "Do you draw?"  
"Mostly anatomy," Josef replied, "I'm studying to become a doctor, so—"

"Oh! A doctor! What sort?"

"The sort that heals people."

She gave him a level look and he chortled. She grinned at his laugh and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You _know_ what I meant."

"I'm not sure yet," he said with an honest tone, "I've only just started my studies."

The wind blasted past again and she gasped. "I _hate_ autumn."

For an instant he was tempted to take off his coat and wrap it around her shoulders—but that was impractical, because then _he_ would be cold. Besides, she'd probably refuse him.

_Right?_

Josef shook his head to clear these new and unwelcomed thoughts. "You hate autumn? Why's that?"

"Everything is just so…dead." She cast a look around the mostly-deserted park, the brittle leaves struggling valiantly to hang on, the withered grass, the fountain that gurgled on and filled the disquieting silence.

Josef listened to the fountain for a moment, and he soon shared her unease. "I see."

Meanwhile, Joelle's gaze had traveled to his hand, eyes alighting on the drawing he still held. "Oh, thank you—" She made to reach for it, but at the last minute Josef pulled the drawing closer to him, just out of her reach.

"No, I think I'll keep this one, thank you." He arched his eyebrows in amusement when she frowned. "I rather like the subject."

Instantly her eyes widened in understanding and she took a step forward. "No, give it back!"  
"Why should I?" Josef's voice took on a coy tone. He held the drawing up into the air, making the small Joelle frown. "Finder's keepers. And really, you should be asking permission before you go around drawing unsuspecting people."

Joelle pressed her tongue to her cheek, standing up on tiptoes to grab for the drawing. Josef danced backwards a little, a genuine smile stretching across his features. "Oh, no, no—this belongs to me no—OH!"

The wind had picked up again, snatching the drawing away from him and sending it spiraling into the air. Both Josef and Joelle yelped, darting after the drawing. Josef was the faster and the taller of the two, and with a hearty laugh of triumph he felt his hand close around the paper once more—just as his foot hit marble.

Josef had about a half a second to look surprised before he went toppling forward into the gurgling fountain. He landed with an almighty splash, arms stuck up out of the water and holding the drawing safely out of the cold dip.

He resurfaced with a gasp, glasses off of his face by one ear. He blinked water out of his eyes, the lack of glasses making the world a hazy blur. Not too far off he could hear Joelle laughing harder than he thought possible. Still holding the unharmed drawing, Josef repositioned his glasses and glared at Joelle. She chuckled, pranced forward, and swiped the drawing away from him. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome." Josef shook droplets of water from his sleeves and stood, mourning his sopping wet clothes. He shook his damp shirt away from his skin, only to be interrupted by a gloved hand sticking out towards him. His icy blue eyes traveled upwards to stare at the faintly smiling Joelle. "C'mon. Let's get you out of those clothes."

He blinked, slowly, and smiled back at her.

**…**

The streets of Stuttgart were dark and quiet as the young couple slid through the shadows towards a faintly purring car. Everything was silent. Everything was still. It was the perfect sort of night to make an escape.

Joelle sniffled slightly and straightened out her husband's jacket, smoothing her long pianist fingers over the pin indicating that he was a member of the National Socialist German Workers' Party. There was a faint trembling in those artist's fingers, but it ceased when Josef caught up her hands.

"Everything is going to be all right." He whispered, planting a soft kiss on her knuckles.

"When am I going to see you again?"

It was a frightened murmur, a failed attempt at bravery, and one last desperate plea not to be separated from the man she loved. Josef took her in bright green eyes for a moment before pulling her into a hug. "I don't know." He admitted in all choked honesty. "But I will come for you as soon as I am able. Heinrich and his family will keep you safe."

"What about—"

"The Allies?" Josef took to stroking her hair. "They won't come after Dresden. It's not a priority. I promise."

Joelle half-smiled and pressed her ear to his chest, listening to the reassuring _thump-thump-thump_ of his heartbeat. "I love you."

"I love you too. Now go."

She stood away, took one more long look at him, and disappeared into the long black car. The driver, his cousin, gave Josef one curt nod before pulling away.

Josef remained where he was for a long, long time, despite the cold and the chill and the lightening sky and his own dark thoughts. Maybe his family had been right. Maybe he had made a mistake in marrying a Jew…

Instantly he shook the thought away, and when he finally started off towards home he was already preparing his reunion with his sweet Joelle.


End file.
